


The Monster in Me

by soniclipstick (veriscence)



Series: Run [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint is a badass motherfucker, Fluff and Angst, M/M, spying is bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veriscence/pseuds/soniclipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint ‘Hawkeye’ Barton hates running, but every once in a while, he gets orders to stop being Clint, and then he isn’t Clint who hates running anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Monster in Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey my darlings! So here is part 2 of my Run series. Phil loves running, but Clint hates it.

Clint thinks that the most mind numbing method of working out is jogging. He prefers to take part in the ‘let-the-Black-Widow-beat-the-crap-out-of-you-for-two-hours-every-day’ training regime. Hey, he never said he was the smart one. He tried to go for a jog once with Phil, but he lost interest after a minute and starting shooting at things. Well to be frank, Phil hadn’t actually told him to leave his collapsible bow behind, so it can hardly be his fault. 

Clint ‘Hawkeye’ Barton hates running, but every once in a while, he gets orders to stop being Clint, and go deep under, and then he isn’t Clint anymore. He never gets them as often as Nat, who is trained for this shit and makes him look like an amateur; but every once in a while, they’ll call him in. Then he isn’t Clint anymore, isn’t Hawkeye anymore.

The thing is, he may be a newbie compared to Nat, but that still puts him at #2. Clint is one badass motherfucker and he knows it. He doesn’t know how to compartmentalize the other person and him. Clint may be a dumb kid who still mixes up his d’s and b’s far too often, but he knows that’s why they call him. That’s what makes him so good. 

After the briefing, it takes him little time to be whoever SHIELD needs him to be for the next month, or six. He’s been Aaron Cross, Sergeant William James, Brian Gamble, and too many others to name. 

Then the missions over and he’s back in New York carrying an I.D. card that says that his name is Clinton Francis Barton with SHIELD, except who the fuck is Clinton Francis Barton, and why does he look like- oh, right. 

Phil drives him home from debriefing, but he doesn’t touch Phil. Phil knows better than to touch him right now. As far as he knows, Phil is Clint’s to touch. Aaron Cross doesn’t get to touch Phil, and he doesn’t know what he will do to Aaron Cross or whatever his name is this time if he touches Phil. Phil belongs to Clint. So Phil just drives and he still doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or terrified. He stops staring after a while because Phil’s whole body seems to blur at the edges. 

He walks up four flights of stairs, grabs a pair of sweatpants, a muscle shirt, and an old hoodie; and then sprints back out into the city. He runs without a particular direction in mind, with a single goal of _away_

He knows he’s going to hurt himself but he needs to run, needs this out of his system. He can’t spar with Natasha, or get some altitude or head to the shooting range; those are comforts that belong to Clint Barton. And definitely can’t have this in that old brick apartment. Not in the sanctuary that Phil had painstakingly built for Clint. He won’t let it consume him, so he runs and runs and runs until he’s run fast enough that it can’t catch him anymore. This monster is not allowed on the balcony where Phil drinks his morning coffee, no matter the weather. 

He won’t let it consume him, but more importantly, he won’t let it consume Phil. 

So he runs until he barely knows where he is anymore, can’t really remember who he is when his knees finally buckle and he collapses onto the sidewalk and crawls over to the curb.

After a while, he looks up and there’s Lola, hood open and coming towards him. That’s when he finally remembers. 

He’s Clinton Francis Barton, he is 35 years old and he works for SHIELD. He is the best archer on the fucking planet. He is an Avenger. Kate is a brat and he loves her for it. Fury lies. Hill is a scary bitch and Jasper makes the worst jokes. 

Natasha is his breath, and Phil is his lifeblood. 

He pushes himself up with the last of his strength and climbs into Lola, places his shaking hands on his lap. Clint never figures out where he ends up each time, because the whole ride home, no matter how long it takes, he stares at Phil. The stray silver hairs at his crown, the crows’ feet at the outer corner of his eyes. That new worrisome mole behind his ear that he really needs to go to the doctor about. His eyes are as always, kind, and his whole body is stoic, like a fortress, and Clint can finally see through the haze and remember how beautiful his husband is. 

It is usually at this point that he remembers how much he hates running. And finally, he is completely sure that he is indeed what the I.D. card says: Clint Francis Barton, with SHIELD. So he lets Phil touch his hands, envelop them until they at long last cease to shake. Clint hates running, but he loves sitting in Lola and observing Phil. He loves being taken home and lead up the stairs and collapsing on the bed. He loves closing his eyes and letting Phil undress him slowly, carefully, while peppering kisses down his jaw. He loves when Phil slowly opens him up, first with his mouth, then his fingers. 

And every single time afterwards, they’re almost instantaneously dead to the world, with Phil still inside of him. When Clint finally wakes up, it’s to Phil chest against his back, Phil’s arms around him and nose tickling skin on the back of his neck. 

Clint goes back to sleep. 

 

(At least, until Natasha comes over to kick his ass for being a lazy ass in bed for 18 hours)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading through and making it to the notes! I appreciate your time!!! :D Again, this is part 2 of my return to writing and I appreciate constructive criticism. 
> 
> Stay shiny!  
> V


End file.
